Heartless Endeavors
by Ivy N.O
Summary: "I did not go to hell and back to be ordered around by the Queen's bitch and his attack dog. I will allow them to stay here, but I will and can cut them down should they aggravate me." "Understood my Lady." Murder draws Lord Phantomhive to the House of Willson. He anticipated an icy reception but not the darkness that surrounds the Mistress of the house...or her maid.
1. Stealing Innocence

_**Hey, so after much deliberation I decided to rewrite this chapter. Just a heads up this story gets pretty dark, pretty quick so be ready for that. Also I would like to just say this isn't another Ciel meets a girl and oh look she made a contract with a demon too story, It's a bit different to that.**_

_**Takes place during season one although this chapter is set before Ciel's life gets flip side upside down. Fist Fanfiction for this section so please Review! **_

_**I do not own Black Butler. **_

The Marchioness Cassandra Willson glanced wildly around her surroundings. She stood amongst a busy market fair, her breath fogged in the bitter winter air. Her head turned in every direction as she tried to take in every face, every sound, every smell. She had never been allowed out to one of these without a small platoon of guards before and her thirteen year old mind planned to commit every detail to memory.

"My Lady!" A worried voice called to her. She turned to see her frazzled hand maid Annabeth running to her, her hands holding up the hem of her uniform. Her tight bun did nothing to ease the tension in her youthful face.

"Please don't run off like that my Lady! The Marquis would have my head if something happened to you!"

"The Marquis..." Cassandra said slowly, her mind still distracted by the spectacles surrounding her.

"Your father, miss. Are you alright? You look rather pale, my Lady."

"I, I am fine. The winter air is simply taking its toll." She said stiffly. She didn't want Annabeth to claim her too ill for them to continue their excursions. She knew her father seemed reluctant to allow her out in the first place, it was only by the prompting of her mother she was permitted to leave.

"Well, let's get you home then and I'll run you a hot bath if you'd like?" Annabeth smiled.

"No, no I'm fine Annabeth, truly. Please do not worry yourself."

But it was futile as Annabeth shook her head and took her wrist gently.

"Come now, it is almost four, My Lady, it is time to leave regardless. If we are late your mother will worry."

"She never worries." Cassandra muttered, although she knew that wasn't strictly true. Her mother was of a sweet but fragile disposition and often spent more time fretting over whether she held her husband's affection then her daughter's well being.

Thankfully Annabeth must not have heard her as she did not reply and merely began to lead the way back to the carriage.

They walked through the crowds of the market until they were back on the streets of London. They moved to an unusually secluded area where Annabeth led her to the foot of a narrow lane and took out a pocket watch.

"How odd, the driver assured me he would be here by this time." The young maid muttered, concern showing on her pretty face. She bit her lip and stood on her tip toes in an attempt to canvas the area.

Cassandra let out a sigh. "Can we not just go back? The carriage is not ready yet, we can always return in a little while and it might be here then."

Annabeth shook her head, placing her pocket watch in her breast pocket. "No, My Lady, I must get you home. Your father won't be happy at all if we do not come back on time."

Cassandra rolled her deep violet-blue eyes. "But the carriage has yet to arrive, please Annabeth, can we just go for a short walk, it will keep us warm if nothing else."

Annabeth paused in her glancing around and frowned. Hope blossomed in Cassandra's chest and she twirled her finger around a loose strand of pale blonde hair, her entire being accentuating innocence and pleading.

The maid let out a heavy sigh, "Alright My Lady, we can go for a quick walk whilst we await the carriage, but please do not venture far, lest we miss it when it arrives."

Cassandra's face broke into a brilliant grin, "Of course, thank you Annabeth."

Annabeth gave her a small affectionate smile. For seven years this child had been in her care, now at the age of twenty four she knew that her time as the young Marchioness' hand maiden was coming to an end. Especially now that her darling Jonathon had asked for her hand in marriage. She had come to fear she may never marry, twenty four was uncommonly old to be unspoken for. But her life had been devoted to the House of Willson, just like her mother's before hers. Although the Marquis was aware of her resignation she had yet to tell Cassandra that she would be leaving come the end of the month, she didn't have the heart to confess it.

"Shall we walk back to the river, I love how seeing the ice float on the rapids." Her charge suggested, already bounding eagerly ahead.

"Slow my Lady, the river is some distance away. We do not wish to stray too far." Annabeth said in a breathless voice as she caught up with the young adolescent.

"Truly Annabeth, why are you so hesitant? We have time..."Cassandra's voice trailed off as she noticed a strange look steal over Annabeth's face.

"Annabeth are you alright?" The hairs on the back of Cassandra's neck stood on end as she sensed warm breath on the side of her face.

The woman's hand shot out and grasped Cassandra's wrist, yanking her in a most unseemly manner.

"May I help you?" Annabeth demanded at the figure who had took it upon themselves to stand so close to Cassandra. They wore a hat low, shrouding their face in darkness. Their black winter clothes gave no indication of their build, however Cassandra safely assumed it to be a male considering the width of their shoulders. He was not particularly tall, however consider Cassandra was a comfortable five feet in height she felt as though he loomed over her.

"My, my, aren't you a pretty one. Those eyes of yours, I like the way they sparkle." The man murmured, his head inclined towards Cassandra despite Annabeth's attempts to stand in between the two. The voice that emanated from him was rough but deep. Not completely unpleasant, although Cassandra would rather die than admit to thinking so.

Annabeth swallowed in fear but stood resolute. "I beg your pardon sir, but you should not address a young girl so freely."

"Why? I like 'em this age, a little less meat on the bones, to be sure, but so much more brittle. How I could make you snap." He whispered, his voice dragging out the last word with deliberate menace.

"My Lady, in my left coat pocket, could you receive my watch for me, I would rather like to see how long we have to wait for the carriage." She muttered lowly, taking steps backwards to take them further from the man. He made no move to follow them, his tilted head did not shift.

Cassandra swore that his eyes were boring into her. She could not see them. But she knew, they burned her skin.

Cassandra glanced from the man for a split second to look at Annabeth in disbelief, what kind of request was that at a time like this. But she saw the set to her carer's jaw and decided not to question her.

Slowly she slunk her hand into the fur lined pouch. Her breath hitched when her fingers curled around the contents. Only now she recalled seeing Annabeth put the watch in her breast pocket.

Her hand smoothly withdrew the sheathed dagger and she tucked it up her sleeve. Annabeth caught her eye and gave her a miniscule nod. Terrified, Cassandra did her best to do the same.

The man still had not moved and there was some distance between them, though not yet enough for her to feel any semblance of comfort. All it would take were a few quick strides and he would reach them.

"My Lady, if you could be so kind as to give me that which you are holding." Annabeth requested through gritted teeth. Cassandra passed her the blade shakily.

Annabeth unsheathed it and twirled it around her fingers. "I think you should leave us alone, good sir. Our driver will be attending to us shortly."

A low chuckle emanated from the man. "Do you know how to use that thing, girly?"

"Well enough." Annabeth retorted with fake bravado.

"I think you're lyin' to me, love. Not very nice that." He purred, still not moving towards them.

"I assure you, it would not be in your best interests to find out." Annabeth threatened. There was a substantial gap now.

And then the second most horrifying moment of Cassandra's young life occurred. Her foot stepped on another.

With a shriek she attempted to whirl around but she moved too slowly and a hand snacked around her mouth and waist, lifting her into the air. She flailed manically in her captors arms but he's grip held strong.

"My Lady!" Annabeth howled. She spun on her heel and with only a moment of hesitation buried the knife in the side of Cassandra's assailant. He yowled in animalistic pain. Cassandra was dropped gruffly to the ground and she tried to gather herself to her feet.

Annabeth darted to her in concern. "Are you alright, My Lady? My Lady?"

Cassandra nodded but her eyes widened in dread as she saw the first man come behind Annabeth.

"Annabeth, watch out!"

Too late. Much, much too late.

Annabeth's body jerked forward as a long blade pierced her through the chest, the tip shining scarlet in the winter sun.

"You shouldn't have gone and done that. I was going to bring you with us, can't now." He hissed in her ear. With a harsh yank he tore the knife from her and she crashed to the ground.

"NO! Annabeth!" Cassandra screamed, crawling to her side. Her brown eyes were turned to the sky and darted frantically around. Blood had begun to drip down her pale cheeks, her teeth were stained a hideous ruby. Her breath kept stuttering, each painful inhalation vibrating with a rasp.

"Annabeth, look at me, please Annabeth!" Cassandra begged, tears pouring down her face. The maid's eyes settled on her face and she took in shaky gasp.

"Run...My Lady, run." She choked out, spit and crimson froth forming around her lips.

And then, nothing. The light in her eyes just wasn't there.

"Grab the girl, throw the body in the Thames." The man ordered gruffly.

"No! Annabeth!"

Cassandra was pulled backwards again but not before she caught a glimpse of the man under the hat. As she struggled against the rag that reeked of chemicals she committed as much to memory as her mind allowed.

Black. His irises were black.

Just like the darkness she succumbed to.


	2. Welcome To Hell

_**A/N: Hey, so this chapter is dark from the offset just to warn you. To anyone who read the previous chapter a while ago I would advise reading again as I edited it. **_

_**Please review, I'd really love feedback as this writing style is a little different for me.**_

_**.**_

Her head was aching. She attempted to blink open her eyes but slammed her lids closed as they were pierced by the merciless sun's rays.

Where...where...

She shook her head and swallowed, her mouth was bone dry and her tongue stuck unpleasantly to the roof of it. The once soft skin of her lips stung and felt cracked. She coughed and her raw beaten chest wheezed in pain. The movement made her realise her arms had been bound to something, a further exploration told her waist had also been tied down, as had both her legs.

"Looks like little miss has woken up." A voice spoke smoothly. She tried to feign sleep but he grabbed her face and pried open her eyes. Cassandra yelped in fear and attempted to dart away from her touch, but he held her in a firm grip. Her pupils shrank drastically against the brightness of the room. She squinted as she became accustomed to the severity of the light. She realised she was facing a high window where the rising sun was glaring unforgiving down on her. She could not see out to know where she had been taken but she could still be blinded, how cruel.

Slowly she shifted her gaze to the man who still held her, his face sickeningly close to her own. He was handsome enough, high cheekbones and a slim face, his dark hair was cut short to his skull. But she did not notice these things. She saw only one thing.

Black eyes, black, black eyes.

"You..." She grunted but it hurt too much to speak.

He chuckled in understanding. "Me. Sounds like you could use a drink, sweetheart. Oi, Marcus, grab us that water jug will ya? Little miss won't be able to make a sound without a little slickness."

The men snickered at him and a tall blonde one handed him the clay pitcher. Cassandra took this as a chance to glance around her surroundings. Five men sat in this room with her including the one who clung to her so vilely.

He released her and shoved the water at her face. She glowered at him defiantly, trying desperately to ignore the begging of her insides. She was so thirsty, so very, very parched...

But he had killed Annabeth. He ran her through.

So she continued to give him a steely look . He chortled.

"A strong one, aren't we? Good, I like 'em with a little fight." He whispered before grabbing her face and squeezing it. She shook her head but it was no use as he forced her jaw open and poured a torrent of water down her throat.

She spluttered as it went down the wrong way, drowning her. She retched, water leaking from her eyes to join the liquid soaking through her dress down to her bare skin.

When the entire jug was empty he flung it to the ground, throwing his head back and laughing manically. Cassandra gasped and doubled over as much as the bindings would allow her, coughing up a gush of searing water.

"What's the matter love, not thirsty?" He demanded cruelly, earning him another bout of laughter from his little gang.

Cassandra made no response, she just breathed heavily, trying not to break down into a flurry of tears. She failed as they dripped slowly down her cheeks.

The man with black eyes saw her silent horror and he dived to her side, squatting in front of her.

"What's wrong my darling, are we scaring you?" He murmured, brushing her loose blonde locks behind her ears.

She refused to look at him, revolted by the feeling of his hand in her hair. He tsked and yanked a fistful of hair towards him causing her to holler in pain.

"It would be best you didn't ignore me sweetheart." He muttered in her ear before placing a kiss on her temple. She froze, terror immobilising her.

He rose to his full height and shoved her away from him. The chair she had been sitting in tipped backwards and crashed to the ground, making her head shake and her teeth to bite down on her own tongue. She tasted blood.

"Throw her in with the others." The black eyed man ordered. Two of his cronies nodded and preceded to untie her. She knew that she should struggle but she was too scared to move as they pulled her arms tightly behind her back and once again bound them. As they left the room she overheard a small snippet of conversation.

"You gonna be needing her later, Richard?" One of the men asked.

"Not tonight, I got some stuff I need to be doing, but you knock yourself out Jimmy." Richard replied, Cassandra recognised his voice, the black eyed man's name was Richard.

She felt dread bubble inside her as she pondered what Jimmy meant by 'needing her'.

.

They left what she presumed to be some kind of parlour room and made their way into the rest of the house. It was tiny, far smaller than her family's mansion. They pulled her roughly up a narrow staircase. She could hear creaking coming from one of the rooms and strangely heavy sounding breathing. She bit back the bile rising in her throat as they walked along the narrow hallway. There was six doors along the moulding damp walls. They finally approached the one at the end of the hall and one of her guards took a key from his pocket. He twisted open the door handle and the groaning wood swung inwardly.

Without a second of hesitation Cassandra was thrown into the cold room. The exit slammed shut behind him, a scratching sound telling her it had been locked once more. She grunted in a most unladylike manner as she pushed herself into a sitting position. She paused as she saw that she was not alone.

Three other girl's gazed at her with cautious looks, all of them slender and unkempt looking. They wore the same white linen dresses. Two of them were older looking, around seventeen Cassandra would guess, greasy hair hung slackly around their tired faces. They had the potential to be very pretty, one was tall with dark grey eyes. The other was not much shorter, her eyes were like the forests, green mixed smoothly with brown.

If only the life hadn't left them.

In the corner sat a young girl on one of the two beds. Younger even then Cassandra, she imagined her to be around nine or ten years old. Red hair hung heavily around her tiny frame.

"What's your name?" One of the elder ones whispered after another moment of silence. The other, shorter girl, offered Cassandra a hand and pulled her to her feet.

"Cassandra." She answered. "And yours?"

But the girl ignored the question. "How old are you?"

She blinked in surprise at the question. "I..."

"Damnit, answer the question! How old are you?" The tall girl snapped.

Cassandra blanched at the girl's show of impropriety. But then in circumstances such as these one could be forgiven for forgetting their manners.

"Thirteen. I'm thirteen."

Relief flashed across the grey eyed girl's face and she let out a small sigh before her jaw set itself grimly. Contrastingly, the shorter girl's mouth came up to her face in horror and let out a small yelp.

"Kathy. It's Kathy." She whispered.

"Yes, Lucy. It's Kathy." The taller girl said with a tight jaw.

"I beg your pardon but who is Kathy?" Cassandra asked just as a agonising screech ripped through the air.

The tall girl looked at her with a stoic expression. "That was Kathy. You're her replacement."

She walked over to the bed and sat down on it, running a hand through her brown hair.

"Lucy, come on, there's nothing we can do." She told the now weeping hazel eyed girl.

"Is Kathy dead?" The youngest girl in the corner asked. She was gazing at nothing, like a broken doll.

"Yes, Bonnie, Kathy's dead." Lucy murmured, sitting beside the little red head and stroking her hair.

"What is this place? Why was someone just murdered and why are you all so calm about it?!" Cassandra cried out irritably.

The tall girl sitting on the other bed patted the side of it. "Here sit down. My name's Margaret."

She hesitated." Are you going to explain what is going on here?"

"You haven't figured it out yet, have you?" Margaret asked a little roughly. Cassandra shook her head.

"Figured what out? Where am I?"

"You're in purgatory Cassandra. Don't worry, you won't be here for long, just until they find another twelve to fourteen year old with pretty eyes."

"What do you mean...until they find another one?"

"Look, trust me. You want to sit down."

She bit her lip but acquiesced. As she sat she noted how the mattress was thin with pointed springs prodding up uncomfortably.

"This place, it's basically home for the most perverse group of men ever to walk the streets of London. I'm not sure how many there are in total but we figure about seven. They keep four of us here, in this foul room at a time, no more, no less. Every month they bring home a girl and every month they butcher one of the ones they already have. There's always two around between sixteen and nineteen, that's me and Lucy in this case, one between nine and eleven, which is Bonnie and one around thirteen. Which up until five minutes ago was Kathy."

Cassandra stared at her blankly. "But what do they want us for?" She asked naively.

Margaret's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You really don't know? What to men always want from women, or girls as the case may be." She added, her voice taking on a ghost of a softer touch as her eyes glanced over to Bonnie.

Cassandra frowned before her eyes widened in realisation. "No..."

Margaret gave her a weak smile. "Welcome to Hell. Enjoy your stay, only way out is death."


End file.
